Not By A Long Shot
by Eurgh
Summary: The dull ache in her chest never goes away these days. Oneshot, Jordan


**Disclaimer: Don't own Scrubbies. End of story.**

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She is not such a bad person.

Well, not really.

Yes, she lies, and she manipulates, and she tries so hard to ruin every relationship she enters.

But Jordan Sullivan is not terrible by a long shot.

She is leaning against the bathroom wall, door locked, lights dimmed. She has her eyes trained on her reflection, watching herself as coolly as if she were staring down a particularly annoying intern. Outside, she can hear little Jenny crying, but Perry's home, and she knows he can take care of her. She hears Jack's sweet voice questioning something about his baby sister, and Perry's soft reply.

And she stops listening, focusing once more on her reflection. She does not like what she sees. She never has. She can spy small imperfections, little wrinkles barely showing. She notices how she is still so fat after giving birth to little Jennifer Dylan. She can see a few silver strands in her hair.

Maybe her decaying looks are punishment for constantly hurting every person she has ever cared about.

Like Andy. And Kurt. Maybe she was cruel to make that little mistake. She still feels guilty about that; not the abortion, but the way she ruined their friendship. She remembers it still, the way Andy whispered his love for her in her ear one night. The way she pretended to sleep so she wouldn't have to admit the same, the truth. She isn't sure what exactly terrified her about those three little words; she was so afraid of letting him close, she supposes, that she decided to ruin everything.

The next night, she got Kurt drunk, slept with him. Ensured Andy wouldn't get too close. Gave up her virginity to escape a relationship.

Oh well.

She hates it when she's like this. Feeling so low and pathetic. She wonders briefly if she should still be taking those stupid meds. But she knows she won't. She hasn't taken a pill in ten years, despite her diagnosed manic depression.

She'll be fine. She self medicates, with gin.

She sometimes wonders how Perry misses the signs, misses that she sometimes spends days avoiding human contact, other times goes out of her way to cause trouble. Then again, as far as he knows, she never quit taking her meds.

"Jordan! You gonna be done in there any time soon?" Perry asks through the door.

"Shut it. I can take as much time as I want to get ready." She snaps, and he groans as he walks away. She is already ready. She has been for thirty minutes.

This is a bad day, a day she must remind herself to just draw in each breath. She wonders if it's post partum depression again momentarily, but shakes off the thought. She knows this has nothing to do with it. She remembers that terrible feeling, and this is not it.

She almost wishes it was, because she could treat that.

Jordan runs a hand through her hair, tugging through the tangles mindlessly. A part of her wants to clench her fist, and just pull at her hair until she feels better. Another part wants to use that fist to shatter the mirror. Either way, Perry will notice, so she simply slides down the wall.

Breathe.

She can try to breathe.

"Jordan!" Perry knocks.

"Perry, I will be ready when I am finished! So shut up!" She calls out in her best Jordan voice. He seems to buy it.

Good.

She can breathe.

Kinda.

She loves him. She loves Perry Cox more than she has ever loved anything in her life. Yet she torments him, ruins him, tries so hard to mess everything up between them. So he'll prove he loves her or move on. And he proves it every time.

It hurts.

That dull ache in her chest never goes away these days. He deserves better. He deserves Carla, who he still loves, who he's always loved more than her. He deserves someone that doesn't pretend to hate him because she's too insecure.

She won't cry. She never cries, she never lets a tear slip out even when she's shattered and broken. Like when J.D. was the only one who knew or cared about Jennifer Dylan's birth.

She's much better at getting even than losing control most of the time.

"Jordan! If we wait any longer, I'll leave you here!" Perry threatens her through the door. What are they doing again? She can't even remember. She can't make herself care.

"Fine!" She shouts back, desperate to put her usual sass into the comment, desperate to make him leave so she can lose it.

Just this once.

Let her lose it, just for an hour, and she'll be okay again.

"Do you even want to go see this stupid movie?" He demands through the door. Oh yeah- some kid movie for Jack.

"No."

"Then we'll see you later."

Relief.

Misery.

Tears are stinging her eyes, stupid tears that she has no reason to cry.

She should be _happy_!

But she isn't.

No, Jordan is never happy.

But she's not a bad person.

Not by a long shot.


End file.
